Secrets of Sylvia

For the past year now, I've been able, from time to time, control my dreams. It took some practice as I would try something too drastic in my dreams and would wake up briefly after. I have to be careful to not be too conscience during my dreaming.

This week, I had a lucid dream. I showed up to a Junior High School where I teach with no pants. I was mortified! I briefly wondered if maybe I could pull my pants out of my bag and slip them on under my desk without anybody noticing.

I didn't think it would work. I was so embarrassed. I began scolding myself in my mind for walking around the apartment in my underwear, because now I was forgetting to put pants on before work.

But then my sense kicked in. Would I really forget to put pants on before work? I thought, "This must be a dream." I wasn't totally sure, but apparently the stress was really getting to me in my dream. I decided to jump out the window. If I could fly, it was a dream. If not, well, then, I wouldn't have to worry about it anymore, would I?

So I went to the window, still pantsless, and I lightly flew up into the air. I kept myself calm, knowing too much excitement would wake me.

I flew around, then decided to leave the country for a while (I'm totally stressed out here, I need a break). So I flew towards home.

On the way, I played with some kids in a playground in another part of the world. Guess I can't leave that teacher part of me behind...

I've been really down lately. I think I may be having anxiety attacks. My chest starts hurting pretty bad, my head starts pounding, I get extremely nauseous and everything feels so overwhelming. I also get incredibly scared of anything making loud noises--the washing machine, the upstairs neighbors, loud music, etc. It scares the crap out of me.

I get so freaked out and it feels like my entire world is collapsing. It's usually at night, and I can't get anything done when I'm like that. I feel so nauseous that I just usually curl up into a ball and try wishing it all away. Of course, it doesn't go away.

My husband has been very good about it. He gets me into bed in a quiet room, then goes about taking care of the chores. He's really nice about that. He's definitely one of the best husbands anyone could ask for.

He's been having a rough time lately, as well. Some things have been happening--he had a death on his side of the family, which has made things so difficult for him. Then, one of his friends died, which has made it even more hectic on his nerves. It's been really hitting him hard.

He doesn't always open up about it, though. It wasn't until last night that he really began talking to me honestly about how all this has him feeling. I tried to comfort him the best I could, but I don't feel like I did a good job. I wish I was better at those things.

In the meantime, I think I may go to the doctor tomorrow. My husband offered to take me, as he speaks the language better than I do. We just want to make sure my chest pains aren't due to physical problems rather than stress. Once I get that confirmed, it'll just be one less thing to worry about.

And I need less things to worry about right now...

These are some lyrics I've been working on. I composed this haunting melody that I like a lot, but have had a lot of trouble putting it to words. I have a hard time writing lyrics to songs where I already have music composed for it. It always feels shallow or like I'm trying too hard. After several attempts, I was finally able to get something to flow out. The story is inspired by a famous author. Can you guess who?



Derive from me all of your fears.
And store with me all of your tears.
She stands and breathes in her
the ocean breeze--drift with her--
Bring her to a place far beyond.

Fill her pockets with tears made of stone,
and dry the pain of being alone.
She stands and breathes in her
the salty seas, filling her,
She floats on to a home far beyond.

Confusion often dries ambition,
and fear often washes it all away.
The shores don't sing,
These shores won't scream,
Only broken cries, broken dreams,
Remain of these sands...

I reach out to a place far beyond.

I'm reaching for a home far beyond.

During my lunch breaks, I've been writing poetry. Bad poetry, but poetry. I use it as an escape. I have to maintain a certain persona at work and sometimes I'm just frustrated by everyone saving face, so I let out those frustrations in bad poetry. It feels good...especially knowing that nobody there would really understand what I was writing, anyway. It's a nice release.

I have a hard time sharing the things I write that I think are good on the internet. I think it's because people can be so cruel on the internet. If I post something bad and somebody says it's bad, there's not much hurt. If I post something I think is good and somebody says it's bad, then I may be a little hurt. I know I shouldn't take such things personally, but I do.

So, today I shall share with you some bad poetry. This one really doesn't have a title. I wrote it in a hurry during lunch while trying to release some frustrations about certain people.


Inhale your lies and open your eyes
To clear blue skies, contentment of sighs
Rip your dreams and with me
Tear it at the seams, so it seems,
Did I invade all of your dreams?

Quick, shake off all the blame
And present the weight of guilt to me
I didn't come invading your dreams...

We all think we're important now,
We all think we've made it somehow,
And you think I should bow
To your failings.

I worked so hard not to be like you.
You've gone so far to cut people like me.
And now you think you own me somehow.
I'm not yours.

Inhale your lies, don't open your eyes
too busy for skies; all impatient sighs
Judge me, all of my movement,
(so it seems, so it seems)
Display to me your discontentment
(sew the seams, sew the seams)
Remember, I didn't come invading your dreams.

My employer has been pointing fingers quit a bit lately. I don't know what's up, but she's been in a sort of foul mood...which makes me want to avoid her.

Now, my lack of communication has resulted in her sending an e-mail that made me cry. I guess I just can't live up to what's expected of me.

I sent an e-mail back where I dared to be a bit honest. Perhaps it was the happy pills I got when I meant to get a pap smear...or perhaps it's the wine I just drank.

But I don't care. And I sort of let it out. Politely, of course.

More on this later...